Warning If you don't have to read every sentence once or twice, this story is not meeting the style I am rendering. No, I never, never put much thought nor gained any peace of mind in the lline whriten Goethe, "Alles nhae werde ferry," or everything near becomes distant. He was speaking of twilight and blindness. No, I never put much thought into ambiguity because I feared madness. I removed myself from the situation at hand. I took inventory of the moment. I wondered if the moment took inventory of me. Tilly Bryce was riding her moped down Williams Street on the sidewalk when I began to get anxious. She was surely supposed to ride on the street, but I heard from her ex-beau, Stev, while we were sipping Starbucks we had found in a tray on the top of an Oldsmobile in the Chevron dealership lot, that Tilly had recently been convicted of her third DUI and was not to operate a motor vehicle until some certain amount of time, but she did not consider many laws to apply to her,